Chapter Three
Some Infinities
"Shizuku, put a shirt on." Phinks' voice is gruff, but he quickly removes his to hand it to the small woman.
"Thanks,' she says quickly, though the small spider is drowning in the fabric.
Kurapika grabs his belt and hands it to her.
"Thank you, Kurapika," she says, eyes wide behind her glasses.
"You had me worried," Machi says, shoving Feitan.
"That your own fault," he retorts in that odd dialect. The product of no education, Chrollo told Kurapika.
As Feitan and Machi steal glares at each other that contain so much more, Kurapika's heart sinks further and further. Like the sun behind them.
"Let's find somewhere to sleep tonight," grumbles Nobunaga.
"We'll need guards," Pakunoda says as they enter a rickety, abandoned home through what was once a door but is now just collapsing timbers. "We can switch every hour."
"Or what?" Kurapika asks slowly.
Kortopi draws a hand across his throat. Kurapika wonders if that is how they killed his family.
"New person first," Phinks adds, sticking Kurapika with a glower.
"I don't trust him!" Nobunaga shakes his head.
"It's simple. I'll stay up with him. Guarding both," says Chrollo.
"Very well." Kurapika in the doorframe by the door as various troupe members collapse on the dirt floor. No blankets. No pillows, or even the likeness thereof.
"It's hard to adjust to how people outside of Meteor City sleep," explains Shalnark, as cheerful as ever.
Kurapika nods. His throat pinches. Behind him, Machi and Feitan lie on opposite sides of the room, as if protesting any feelings between each other.
"You've noticed too," says a wry voice. Chrollo, now sliding next to him.
Kurapika shrugs. "How does it make you feel?"
"Happy," Chrollo says.
"Does much make you happy?"
"No." Chrollo inhales as he pulls a worn book out of his pocket, perfect to read by moonlight. The only book he ever reads in Meteor City, because it's the first one he ever read. His mother gave it to him. "Like you, I suppose."
Kurapika eyes him.
"It's a mathematical proof," Chrollo says suddenly.
"Huh?" Kurapika glances over.
"Some infinities are larger than other infinities." Chrollo turns a page. "If you wanted to argue the point back in the palace, you could tie that to how some lives may be more valuable. Like your friends'."
"Maybe some lives are more infinite to me," says Kurapika slowly, "but all are infinite."
"And infinitely valuable?" Chrollo asks, flipping past a boring section on geometry.
"Yes."
"Like your tribe. They were a small infinity to the world, no? But a large infinity to you." Chrollo doesn't look at Kurapika.
"I … I mean – your troupe is the same," Kurapika says lamely. "An infinity. Like Meteor City, even."
"Perhaps," says Chrollo, "they are merely puppets from the same origin as I."
"Do you think yourself a puppet?"
"Of fate, perhaps." Philosopher whose thoughts are in Chrollo's hand wrote about fate. He won't stop believing in it. Because it's the first thing he ever believed.
"Do you not decide to kill?" Kurapika asks sharply. "Or is it that you would rather attribute to fate what is actually free will, lest you implicate yourself?"
"You talk a self-righteous game for a murderer, Kurapika. Would your family be proud of what you've become?" Chrollo asks slowly.
"Would yours?"
"I never had one. My mother died when I was very young." Chrollo frowns. "I'd like to think no. Because that would make her a good mother, to disapprove of a thieving son. But I don't know."
Kurapika feels an unexpected wave of pity.
"Mine would not approve," he admits. "You don't know what I've done."
"Well," says Chrollo, "You know some of what I've done, but not all of it."
Kurapika waits.
And Chrollo wants to tell.
"I found you, Kurapika!" A voice rings through the night.
Kurapika and Chrollo turn to the door.
A kid.
"The fuck?" mumbles Phinks from behind them.
"You," Kurapika says in surprise.
"I'm Kalluto Zoldyck. I want to join your troupe." A kimono-clad boy holds out a nen-coated paper fan.
"Of the assassins?" Chrollo's brain whirs. A chance to avenge Troupe Member 8, by training Silva Zoldyck's son.
"The hell are you?" Feitan rubs sleep out of his eyes.
"I'm Kalluto." The kid shoots papers towards him.
Machi knocks Feitan out of the way. "Something tells me that's dangerous, kid."
"I'm not just a kid," Kalluto argues.
"It's true," says Kurapika. "I know his brother. The one you captured."
Kalluto looks around eagerly. "Please let me join. I can tell you there's a problem."
"What problem?" asks Shalnark.
"Hisoka hired my brother Illumi. He wants to fight you, Mr. Chrollo." Kalluto nibbles his lip. "I'll help you stop them if you let me join. And don't kill Illumi."
"Does Hisoka know where we are?" Bonolenov asks.
"He's Hisoka," Kurapika says dryly, prompting a chuckle from Pakunoda.
"All the more reason to keep watch. We can't leave right now. You're lucky you weren't killed in Meteor City at night, Kalluto." Chrollo extends a hand. "Sleep here tonight."
Kalluto shakes his hand eagerly.
Kurapika had expected Chrollo to look down on a brat like Kalluto; instead, he sees only generosity.
"Have you eaten anything?" Machi asks crossly, guiding Kalluto inside. "Fei, help feed the kid. He looks like your brother or something."
"You don't like the Zoldycks," Kurapika observes once the place is quiet again.
"I have nothing against them, save Silva. He killed the member Shizuku replaced." Chrollo paused.
Kurapika hesitates.
"Tybalt was a sneaky child. He had gotten himself in trouble with the mafia. I arrived as fast as I could, to duel Silva instead." Chrollo laughs, painfully. "I lost, and he died, and there was nothing I could do. He was just thirteen."
"I'm sorry," Kurapika says, stunned.
"So am I." Chrollo shakes his head. "We found him starving in a dump in Lukso Province."
Kurapika stiffens. He forgets to breathe.
So Tybalt would have been…around the Kurtas. Nearby.
"He stole a bounty we had just taken." Chrollo sighs. "I was admiring the treasure, and then they just vanished! All because of that little brat."
"Why didn't you just admire your own eyes?" Kurapika demands in a thin voice.
He should hate him right now. But he doesn't. How can the demise of his people – genocide – have led to Chrollo bonding with a kid? It's disgusting, this confusing world.
"Hmm?" Chrollo blinks.
"Yours are different."
"Hah, really?" Chrollo smiles.
His eyes really are lovely. Kurapika leans closer, scrutinizing them.
"What are you looking at?"
"Your eyes," says Kurapika. "Like thunderclouds."
"No lightning, though," Chrollo says with a smirk. He swallows. "I always hated them for their lack of color. Vain of me, isn't it?"
Kurapika guffaws. "You have a tattoo on your forehead and hair gelled within an inch of its life. Am I supposed to be surprised?"
"At least my hair isn't in my face, Kurapika," Chrollo says pointedly.
Kurapika reaches over – over to his enemy – and rustles several dark strands free. "Now they are."
Chrollo huffs.
"What color eyes did you want?" Kurapika hears himself ask.
"Scarlet."
Kurapika inhales. He was not expecting Chrollo to bring this up.
"You've heard of the Kurta clan, no doubt?" Chrollo looks straight ahead. "The Spiders are responsible for their extinction."
"And the surplus of eyes on the black market," Kurapika says, fighting to remain calm.
"That wasn't good planning on our part."
"So why?" Kurapika's voice is reedy.
Chrollo glances towards him. "I don't know. No, maybe I do." He looks to the sky. "I enjoyed the power. I loved the treasure. A kid from Meteor City holding anything beautiful at all, much less dozens of the Seven Wonders of the World in his hands, was impossible."
"But the people," Kurapika says.
"Many were children." Chrollo swallows. "Do you hate me for that?"
Kurapika is silent.
"Makes the auction look moral, I suppose."
"Are you sorry?" Kurapika isn't sure why he's even asking.
"To whom? There's no atoning, Kurapika. They're all gone. I can't apologize to anyone. Not even the parents we kept last as we tortured their kids, to make their eyes as red as possible." Chrollo can picture every sight, but he cannot hear the screams. He's never remembered the screams.
Perhaps that makes him inhuman.
"I am very, very upset," Kurapika manages.
"Perhaps," says Chrollo, "you should be. I will not tell you how to feel."
"How do you feel?" Kurapika bursts out. "Let yourself feel. And then tell me what those feelings are!"
"I'm numb. I'm appalled at myself. I don't know why I did it – or perhaps I do. Is greed and power enough of a motivator? How superficial. At least the auction fucked over the mafia, who deserve it." Chrollo looks aside. "I am a damned man, and I won't say I don't deserve it. The only ones I've ever loved at the Spiders."
"Is that because you are too afraid to love more?" Kurapika can't stop. "Afraid of losing. Afraid of losing beauty, so you'll kill to maintain it. Afraid of losing power, so you'll torture and steal others'. Afraid of friendships and families, afraid that people are anything but replaceable, because the gravity of your actions and every moment in Meteor City and the world at large is then of infinite value?"
Chrollo stares at him, mouth slightly ajar.
"I'm right, aren't I?" Kurapika wants to be free. He wants to tell. He reaches forward, grabbing the ends of Chrollo's raven hair in between his fingertips. Those swirling grey eyes pore into his masked black ones.
If they weren't disguised, they would be scarlet.
To Kurapika's horror, his body gives another response. And the man's lips are very, very close to his.
"You can atone," Kurapika whispers instead. He lifts a hand towards his eyes.
And a needle flies into his eye.
Chrollo whistles. Maybe. Kurapika isn't sure.
What he is sure of is that he's gagging on blood from a second needle in his throat, and Chrollo's arms are the only thing keeping him upright.
He hit his head, he thinks. Hard. On the splintering doorframe.
And then his eyes focus. On a black contact lying right beneath his feet.
Kurapika looks upward, at Chrollo, who looks entirely unsurprised at what surely must be a Scarlet Eye staring back at him.
"What the –" Machi's threads haul Kurapika away.
"He's a Kurta?" yells Phinks.
"Fuck you, Hisoka!" Nobunaga screams.
"It was no secret, Phinnks," says Pakunoda, grabbing his arms. "Machi, I've got him. You go help Danchou."
"Would you like to fight to the death?" Chrollo seethes.
"Sure," Hisoka says happily.
"Not you. Illumi." Chrollo smirks at Hisoka's indignation. He wouldn't, for Kalluto's sake. But it is fun to annoy Hisoka.
"No," says Illumi. "Pay me now, Hisoka."
"Illumi, stop!" begs Kalluto.
"I put a tracker on you, you know," Illumi says.
"What?" Kalluto looks horrified. He turns to Chrollo, desperate. "I'm sorry!"
"We don't blame you," Nobunaga replies, shocking the child.
"All of you, stop it!" Killua, Gon, Leorio, and two people Chrollo has never seen before appear. A chubby young man, and little girl with an eerie smile.
Just, appear.
Like nen he's never seen.
"What is he doing out?" Illumi yelps.
"I freed our sister," says the chubby one. "Alluka, this is the Phantom Troupe."
She waves. Phinks, unsure what the hell is even happening, waves back.
"And she took out my needle," adds Killua, glaring at Illumi.
"Dad made him put the needle in," says Alluka. "Dad's very mean to him and Milluki." She pauses. "He doesn't care about me and Kalluto."
"Silva," Chrollo mutters. "If you want to beat someone up, Hisoka, why don't you chase after him?"
"Because he's not as sexy," Hisoka replies.
"You mean Illumi would be mad at you?" Leorio asks. "Because I'm not really sure what's going on in that relationship, but it's not straight."
Illumi stutters.
"Illumi never misses with his needles," Killua adds, sweetly.
Illumi is now bright red. Killua likes him! Killua thinks highly of him!
"You missed because you want Hisoka to stop and be your friend," Gon declares.
"Something like that," Killua says. "Isn't that right, Illumi?"
"No," Hisoka says, at the same time Illumi says, "yes."
"Hisoka, you just want to feel adrenaline because it's the only time you feel alive," says Chrollo. "I've figured you out."
"But not yourself," Hisoka purrs.
"No, but I'm starting to." Chrollo glances behind him, to where Shalnark and Pakunoda are extracting a needle – and a contact lens – from Kurapika's eye.
"Alluka, Kurapika might lose his vision," says Killua.
"'Kay." The sweet little girl's eyes turn black. "Show me his hand."
Chrollo gapes at her as Gon and Killua lead her inside.
"She's pretty powerful," says Milluki.
"Stop distracting me," Hisoka snaps.
"No," says a sweet-voiced woman. She holds up a flute.
The next thing Hisoka and Illumi know, they are on the floor of the hut, tied together. Relaxed for Hisoka, and relaxed, which means depressed, for Illumi.
"I should die," says Illumi sadly. "I can fight Chrollo."
"Don't you dare." Fuck it. Hisoka uses bungee gum to draw his lips to his own. "First of all, that's my job. Second of all, you taste good."
Kurapika lies on the dirt floor, dimly aware that Gon, Leorio, and Killua are here to rescue him. And Melody. Oh, and Illumi Zoldyck is in love with Hisoka.
And that Chrollo knows who he is.
With a burst of courage, he opens his eyes. He gasps when the first thing he sees is Chrollo staring down at him.
And his red, red eyes.
Kurapika draws back. "How long have you known?"
"Since the palace. I was waiting for you to show them to me. And provoking you, if I'm honest." Chrollo pauses. "Maybe I am waiting to deserve them."
Kurapika closes his eyes. When he opens them, they flame such scarlet that they sear Chrollo's soul.
"I'd say I'm sorry," Chrollo says, drawing his arms closer to himself, "but I fear that is inadequate."
"It is," Kurapika says softly, and Chrollo finds himself relieved to hear his voice.
"Did you mean it? When you said I could atone?"
"Yes." Kurapika draws in a shuddery breath. "It hurts, Chrollo – I can't call you Danchou. But yes, I meant it."
"I like how you say my name," Chrollo confesses.
"Say mine," Kurapika demands suddenly.
"Kurapika." Chrollo stares at him. "Kurapika of the Kurta Clan."
"Chrollo Lucilfer, of Meteor City," says Kurapika. "Let's atone, together."
"I have so much more to do than you," Chrollo says dryly.
"I don't care." Kurapika smiles tearfully. "By the way."
"'Get lost, fool.' Those were Uvogin's words." Kurapika's eyes well.
Chrollo's hands reach for the cross on Kurapika's Holy Chain. A promise of redemption, of resurrection. Of forgiveness, even.
Kurapika holds it forth. And as Chrollo's fingers seize it, Kurapika feels as though his own heart is pierced. By a chain linking them both, for now until infinity.
"I think," says Chrollo, "we are both."
"Whoever seeks to save their life will lose it,
but whoever loses their life will find it."
– Luke 17:33
So I'd like to apologize for the bare-bones nature of this story. TBH grad school is kicking my ass. But I figured some writing for KurokuraWeek2018 was better than none.
Happy Kurokura!